


then, there is everything

by lavenderlotion



Series: Lav Watched Endgame [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 17:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18833347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: There is no time. There is no space. There are no thoughts and no worries.Until there is something, until there is more.There is nothing. And then there is something.Then, there iseverything.





	then, there is everything

**Author's Note:**

> i tried to write something short and sweet at work at. This happened? 
> 
> Unbeta'd

Peter rolls into the heat beside him, tucking himself against the soft body in bed with him. He doesn't think much of it, still toying the line of sleep, and he makes a happy little noise when the heavy weight or a strong arm settles lazily over his hip, rough fingertips brushing the small of his back. Clinging to sleep, he replays the last few seconds of his dream, a happy thing that feels fleeting as he continues to wake. Ignoring the morning light hitting the side of his face, he cuddles even closer to the man in front of him, bringing his knees up to press into soft thighs and nuzzling his face against a softer chest.

It's nice, this easy, weightless intimacy he has found for himself.

Thor's stomach makes a loud grumbling that interrupts the stillness of the room, and Peter huffs a fond noise under his breath even as he's pulled the rest of the way from sleep.

As soon as he's fully conscious, everything comes back to him at once. He takes a shuddering breath as the arms of his bedmate wrap around him and pulls him closer in preparation. Peter focuses on the feeling of sleep-warm skin and the steady rise and fall of the chest under his head as he grits his teeth and pushes away the overwhelming tightness that has coiled within his chest and squeezed around his heart.

It's useless to try to stop the inevitable, but he still shakes his head as if telling himself to stop will do much of anything.

Nearly every morning starts like this. Every night ends like this. With Peter feeling like he is drowning in his own grief. The only time he feels alright, feels  _ light, _ are those first few moments after a pleasant dream before he  _ remembers.  _ He has to wonder if he will ever stop mourning, if he'll ever be able to move past the loss of someone as bright as Tony Stark. It has been weeks and still, he feels likes a shell of himself, like he's nothing but a poorly done patch job of all his broken pieces, one blow away from breaking apart all over again.

He's lost too much.

He doesn't know how to be okay. He has mourned before. He has lost family and pushed on, but this. This might be too much for him to get through. Peter doesn't know how to keep moving in a world that is void of Tony Stark's brilliance. Mr. Stark was everything to him, and he's reminded of that every second of every day. No matter what he's doing, there is  _ something _ that makes him think of the man who changed his life, the man he looked up to, the man he  _ loved,  _ so wholly and completely.

Mr. Stark was everything to him. Mr. Stark is  _ still _ everything to him even though he's gone. He was everything that made Peter good. Peter doesn't...he doesn't know how to be good without Mr. Stark, without  _ Iron Man, _ leading the way. He's just a teenager who's lost too much and doesn't have anything else to give to a world that keeps demanding more.

Thor hugs him tightly, desperately, just as much for his own comfort as for Peter's. The older man pulls the covers up around the two of them and tucks them away, and Peter  _ clings _ to everything that Thor is. He cuddles close and lets Thor's otherworldly warmth wrap around him and keep him safe and push away some of the tightness that always sits in the back of his throat, that Peter thinks might never go away.

This, tucked away in bed with a  _ God, _ is the only time he feels anything close to okay, and he's still breaking apart. Because everything hurts, always, and Peter doesn't know how to move on.

Thor—Thor doesn't either.

There are so many reasons they fell into bed together, but Peter knows that grief was the main one. That the pain they both feel wasn't something they could deal with alone, and so they found each other and have been drowning together ever since the first night they came together as something more than allies. They have been nearly inseparable ever since, tempering each other’s hurt. Peter knows it isn’t healthy that he can no longer sleep without Thor’s heat beside him, but neither of them cares.

The pain of loss makes itself known in a sob that chokes its way out of Peter's mouth before he's able to stop it. Thor shushes him as he always does when Peter cries, the way Peter shushes him in turn—gently and lovingly and so, so understanding. For they both lost something they can't ever get back, they both had their hearts torn apart in the name of the greater good and Peter—Peter thinks it's  _ bullshit _ .

Tony Stark died saving the entire  _ fucking  _ universe. He died because he sacrificed himself to restore what Thanos had done. He is a hero and will always be remembered as a hero. Peter, at least, has that. He is not the only one mourning Tony Stark—the entire world, the entire  _ universe _ is, and that...it is a double-edged sword, because he isn't alone but he  _ is _ in the way he loved him. 

In the way that Tony Stark was  _ everything _ to him.

Loki died because he was inconvenient. Because, in the end, he refused to give Thanos what the giant wanted. He died because he loved his brother and his people—that Peter is sure without ever having met him. But, Thanos still got space stone, and he still wiped out half of all living creatures. Loki is not mourned by an entire population. He is forgotten by almost all, only remembered by a few, and mourned by even less. 

Thor is alone in his pain and he has no one to share it with—other than Peter.

“I'm sorry, “Peter whispers, his voice rough. His lips brush Thor's collarbone, and he wonders if he would ever have had  _ this, _ if not for their loss. He doesn’t know if it’s worth it, or what he's apologizing for, but he doesn't think that it matters, much. There is so much for them all to apologize for. 

“Shush, little one,” Thor rumbles, his voice still rough with sleep in a way that makes Peter shiver. He runs a large hand down the length of Peter's spine as he brushes a kiss to his hair. “It is alright. We will be alright.”

Peter knows it's a lie, but he appreciates the words for what they are, for what they're trying to do. Still, useless platitudes are not enough. Nothing is ever going to be enough.

The universe took too much from them.

* * *

“You can rest now,” Tony hears, and then everything goes endlessly silent even as his soul tears itself apart.

He expects pain. He expects endless torture. He expects there to be a blissful end to it all, where he  _ can _ finally rest.

But it’s peaceful, such a nothingness. For as long as Tony can remember, there has been so much, too much, to think about, to create, to do. Every day has been a constant scramble of  _ too much _ that has left him feeling like he was drowning more often than not. A constant stream of information that he dulled for years with pills and booze and other bodies. And despite his best efforts, it had never been enough. 

There has always been  _ something _ .

And now, in this place that is nothing, there is nothing to think of. Nothing but himself, and a quiet, soothing nothingness.  _ Nothing _ , which feels so lovely that he willingly loses himself in it. There is no time. There is no space. There are no thoughts and no worries. 

Until there is  _ something _ , until there is  _ more _ . 

Tony feels himself reaching for it even as he doesn't want to, even as he wants to stay in this peaceful state of ease that he has never existed in before. Oh, Tony knows he's dead in the same way he knows there should be actually  _ nothing _ and not this—an endless nothing with  _ something _ that is rising along its edges, slinking slowly from the void.

There is no time, but Tony still knows it takes that something a while to grow. Tony watches, in the way he can with his entire being, as a light begins to glow in the nothingness. It is pretty, endlessly green, shifting shades of blue and aquamarine. He likes it, he thinks. It's just as gentle as this place is. It grows. It grows, and it grows until instead of nothing, there is only this green shifting mass of  _ power _ that makes Tony's entire being quake in awe.

There is nothing. And then there is something.

"It is not your time, Man of Iron,” a voice drawls from the light. It's pleasant, soothing. Rises at the end in a way that makes Tony think of a mischievous grin and pretty green eyes he shouldn’t like. “There is a young man whom I happen to feel indebted too, and he is in need of you.”

Then, there is  _ everything _ .

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
